


break me (like a promise)

by bitterheart



Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Emotional Manipulation, Homophobia, M/M, Miklan is awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22964647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: It's funny that the one time Sylvain hurts Felix the worst—bone deep and shattering his heart within the confines of his chest, the hurt taking root so deep within him that it affects the way he builds relationships for years to come—Sylvain doesn't even have to do anything at all.Childhood memories and all the different ways to hurt someone.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627099
Comments: 23
Kudos: 120





	break me (like a promise)

**Author's Note:**

> This is written (super, super belatedly) for FE3H Song Week Day 6: All Too Well by Taylor Swift. Title taken from the lyrics of the same song.

_and I know it's long gone_  
_and that magic's not here no more_

  
  
  
When they are children, Sylvain hurts him frequently.

Most of the hurts are accidental; words that come out a little too sharp and make Felix's lips quiver as his eyes well with tears, bumps and scrapes from pulling Felix along without accounting for the difference in the length of their strides, a hundred little mistakes that are easily made and easily forgiven. 

Some of the hurts are deliberate; Sylvain's family is so different to Felix's own in a way that he first thinks of as _cold_ and, once he's older, amends to _cruel_. Sylvain's mother and father and brother all carry it in their eyes. It creeps into their voices. Sometimes, it shows in Sylvain too.

It's funny that the one time Sylvain hurts Felix the worst—bone deep and shattering his heart within the confines of his chest, the hurt taking root so deep within him that it affects the way he builds relationships for years to come—Sylvain doesn't even have to do anything at all. 

_Funny_. The same way Sylvain would say the word at the end of yet another false story about how he tripped and fell down the stairs to explain away the bruises Felix would glimpse under his shirt. _Funny, huh?_ he would ask, his smile so resigned that Felix would find himself crying about it hours later without having the words to explain why. 

Felix, still cutting his fingers on the shards of his heart as he fits it back into place for years to come, doesn't find it funny all.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Miklan is a constant throughout Felix’s entire childhood. He’s inescapable; a lesson that Felix learns early. Miklan is cruel and patient, a combination that allows him to bide his time while he thinks of how worst to hurt someone. 

The first time Miklan hurts Felix, he isn’t really targeting Felix at all. Miklan’s focus is fixed on a point beyond him, as if Felix is just an inconsequential cog in a bigger machine. Eight years older than Felix and much bigger and stronger than him, Miklan simply trips him while he walks one day, sending him sprawling across the concrete and skinning both knees. 

Felix doesn’t understand it at first. Sylvain has already spoken a little of the way Miklan will sometimes lash out at him without warning, a snake that switches between stationary and striking within a split second. Felix assumes that’s simply what has happened to him and he’s glad for it even as the tears spill down his face, that at least it’s him and not Sylvain this time. 

He doesn’t understand that it’s any bigger than that, even when Glenn patches him up afterwards, bandages a little crooked as they cover his knees. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” Glenn asks quietly, more serious in that moment than Felix has seen him before. “Did someone do this?”

Felix sniffs and nods. Before Glenn can ask further, he says, “Sylvain’s brother.”

He puzzles at the way Glenn’s expression darkens at his words. He doesn’t make the connection when he later sees Miklan walking with a slight limp and a face covered in nasty bruises, and the way Glenn isn’t allowed to leave his room for two entire weeks except for school. He doesn't get it until it happens two more times, Miklan cornering him and finding new and painful ways to make him cry.

It's not about him at all. It's Glenn. It's the way he'll grit his teeth, eyes burning golden with his anger as he stalks off to find Miklan and it doesn't seem to matter that Glenn wins every single fight because he still looks miserable afterwards, not for the way he's grounded for increasingly longer and longer periods each time but for the fact that Felix is hurt.

"Can you teach me something?" Felix asks one afternoon when he's playing in his backyard with Sylvain. 

Sylvain's eyes light up, the way they always do when he gets a chance to pass his extensive knowledge along to his younger friends. "Of course I can. What's up?"

Felix speaks with all the sincerity of an eight year old. "Can you teach me how to stop crying?" 

Sylvain stops what he's doing. The rocks that he's stacked on top of each other to form a tower roll apart without his hand to steady them. He takes no notice, frowning at Felix. "Did someone call you a crybaby? Who do I need to beat up?"

Felix thinks about all the times he sees Miklan push Sylvain down the steps in their backyard, or trample on his new toys. "No one. I'm just sick of being a stupid crybaby."

"Listen," Sylvain says, so serious that he almost sounds _angry_ , and it scares Felix. When Sylvain reaches to hold the sides of his face, Felix flinches back. It isn't Sylvain he sees in that moment and he hates himself for it, hates the way Sylvain's eyebrows draw together like he's hurt. He doesn't know what to say. For a moment, neither of them do but luckily Sylvain recovers first. He places his hands on Felix's shoulders firmly. "I like you just the way you are. Tears and all. You don't have to change for anyone."

It doesn't give Felix the answer he's looking for, but it does make him smile.

At least, until Miklan changes targets. Glenn's anger and pain loses its charm to him in a way that hurting Sylvain never has. 

Miklan changes tactics here, subtle in the ways he uses Felix to hurt Sylvain in a way that he never was with Glenn.

Felix hates it. Miklan is cleverer than he is, knows how to get under his skin before Felix can figure out how to stop him. This time, it isn't about hurting Felix in any way that Sylvain or anyone else can see. It's about fear, and the way it seeps into Felix like an ink stain spreading across paper. 

It's a pattern, simple enough that Felix learns it after seeing it repeated once: Felix spends time with Sylvain, as he so often does. Miklan hurts Sylvain. It's nothing different to the way he usually hurts Sylvain except this time, it comes with the knowledge that it's Felix's fault. 

Suddenly, it doesn't matter when Sylvain got his bruise, or black eye, or any other of his constant injuries. Whether they're preceded by Sylvain spending time with him or not, Felix learns to look at all the ways that his best friend is hurt and believe that it's his fault.

The weight of that guilt is too heavy to sit on his small shoulders. He doesn't know how to find the words to explain any of it, not to Sylvain, not even to Glenn or his parents. He can do nothing except for buckle under the great pressure of it, until avoiding Sylvain isn't even a conscious decision but a reflex.

It happens for two weeks. Felix finds himself flinching away at the sight of Sylvain. He makes excuses for why he suddenly has to be elsewhere and it doesn't even matter that they're laughably weak when most of the time, his voice is too small, or he's already too far away for Sylvain to hear it. Even when there are others around, like Dimitri or Ingrid, Felix can't bring himself to talk to Sylvain, to look at Sylvain, and it feels like they're fighting except instead of feeling angry or upset, the only thing Felix can feel is guilt curling through his chest and crushing the air right out of his lungs.

Miklan stops hurting Sylvain. Felix is satisfied that this is working.

The cuts and bruises slowly fade from Sylvain's skin, and he looks more miserable than ever.

It's Ingrid's interference that finally puts them in the same room together. She invites Felix over to play. When she leaves the room, she tells him that she's getting snacks. Instead, she opens the door again, shoves Sylvain inside, and locks them in. 

The fear and guilt start clawing their way up Felix's throat before he can fully process either, backing away to the opposite corner of the room. Sylvain watches him, defeated.

"You hate me." Sylvain's voice sounds horrible. It's shaking, thick with unshed tears but underscored by a deep resignation that makes Felix's heart hurt. "I don't know what I did, Felix. I don't know why you won't even look at me but I'm _sorry_. Whatever I did, just tell me and I promise I'll never do it again. Please."

Felix's back hits the wall at the same time that the terrible realisation washes over him: Miklan doesn't have to hurt Sylvain because right now, Felix is doing it himself. He's breaking things in Sylvain that Miklan's fists can never reach and he's been doing it for _two weeks_ , thinking he's helping Sylvain when he's actually doing something much worse.

He doesn't realise there are tears spilling down his cheeks until Sylvain's eyes go wide. 

"Felix, I'm sorry," he says, reaching behind him and trying the door knob. It rattles, still locked from the other side. Sylvain turns away from Felix, tries to make himself look as small and non-threatening as possible, even as he raises his voice to speak through the door. "Ingrid, you have to let me out. I'm just upsetting him, Ingrid, please—"

Sylvain falls silent when Felix crosses the room, hugging him tightly. It's been a long two weeks. He's missed his best friend. He's hurt Sylvain so much.

"Felix," Sylvain whispers, like his very name is fragile. His hands rest on Felix's shoulders, then slide down across his back and gather him into a tight hug. Felix sobs loudly, his entire body shaking with it so hard that it takes him a while to realise that Sylvain is crying too. 

They don't talk about it. Felix still doesn't know how to put any of it into words, doesn't want Sylvain to know of Miklan's involvement in case that only makes everything worse. Sylvain, so often the talkative one, doesn't speak except for broken whispers of Felix's name as they cling to each other.

At some point, Ingrid unlocks the door. She doesn't know what to do with Felix and Sylvain so she ends up calling Glenn over, who bundles them both up and takes them home— _Felix's_ home, not Sylvain's. They sit in his room together, hands clasped tightly together like they can't bear to be fully apart, and Felix can't stop wondering what awaits Sylvain when he goes back to his own home, and whether Miklan will start hurting him again.

The next day, Sylvain has bandages stuck over both knees but he's grinning like he's on top of the world when he sees the way Felix waits for him so that they can walk to school together.

The guilt still settles in Felix's chest but if he looks at Sylvain's smile for long enough, he can almost forget it's there.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Felix is fifteen when he realises he's gay.

It's not a realisation so much as simply putting the right word to something he's known about himself for a while.

Felix has been in love with Sylvain for over two years now, and hasn't seen him once since he moved away. He thinks that maybe this is the sort of thing he could have talked to Glenn about, but it's been two years since he's been able to talk to Glenn about anything. 

Dimitri is out of the question, slowly breaking apart under his own family issues. Felix barely speaks to him or Ingrid these days. He barely speaks to anyone. It feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest, packed into a box and sent off somewhere far away, just like the rest of Sylvain's belongings. Any chance of Felix recovering from it had disappeared when Glenn died. He doesn't know how to open up to others any more. Doesn't see why he should.

Still, the thought sits at the back of his mind and it has nowhere else to go but outward. Felix is not one to keep revelations to himself once he's had them. 

It comes out in the worst possible way, in the middle of dinner with his father. 

The two of them have meals together in their quiet, empty house. His father insists on it and most of the time, it's a silent, uncomfortable thing that they both suffer through. Most of the time, they get through it without saying a single word to each other. 

After Felix has already cleared his throat and broken the silence, he finds himself desperately wishing he could go back to the quiet of a minute ago. 

"I'm," he begins, with nowhere to go but forward. "I—"

Felix's father stops eating, watching him patiently.

Felix feels his face colour. "I like—"

He doesn't know how to continue. He likes Sylvain, who never answers his phone and never writes to him. He doesn't like anyone else the same way. He isn't sure that he _can_ feel this specific way for anyone who isn't Sylvain but when his classmates talk about cute girls, he finds himself drawn to tall boys. His chest feels tight when he looks at the captain of the school basketball team, sweat clinging to his red hair after a game. 

His father lets out a soft sigh, putting his cutlery down and turning his full attention to Felix. 

"Felix, listen to me," he says, his voice gentle in a way that Felix doesn't hear often enough. "You can like whoever you like, and that won't change who you are. You're still my son regardless and I want you to remember that. There are people out there who believe that the type of person you like defines who you are a person and they're wrong. They will always be wrong. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

His father already knows, Felix thinks numbly. He can't breathe past the lump in his throat, let alone speak. He nods silently and his father nods in return. 

They continue their dinner and this, like all other admissions of emotion in their household, is treated like it never happened.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
At some point, Felix stops trying to get in touch with Sylvain. 

His number's still there, saved into Felix's phone as it has been for years, but it always rings out. Felix has counted the rings, _one, two, three, four,_ before Sylvain's voice mail message kicks in. It hasn't changed since Sylvain moved. His voice probably doesn't even sound like it does in the recording any more. 

Felix doesn't message. He doesn't call. Not unless it's Sylvain's birthday. 

"Hi," he says into the empty silence of the voice mail recording, one-sidedly upholding his least favourite ritual. "It's me. Felix. Um. Happy birthday, again. Bye." 

He knows that the most obvious explanation is that Sylvain has lost his phone. He must have a new one. One that he actually answers. One with a voice mail message that actually sounds the way he does these days. It's the only thing that makes sense.

Except for one thing: Sylvain's number has to be active for his voice mail to work. Felix hasn't worked out what that actually means but he can't let go of the stubborn bubble of hope that lives somewhere in his chest. 

That hope comes crashing down on Felix's sixteenth birthday.

It's a weekend, and a quiet one at that. Felix hates celebrating his birthdays, hates that every single year brings him closer to being older than Glenn will ever be. His friends don't expect him to celebrate but they still send him messages through the day that they don't expect replies to. 

Then, sometime in the afternoon, his phone starts ringing. 

Felix looks over with irritation, ready to assume that it's Dimitri calling with misplaced concern and earnestness. His stomach drops out when he sees the name on the screen. 

It's Sylvain. 

Felix's hands are shaking as he reaches over, answering the call and pressing his phone to his ear. "…Sylvain?"

He's answered with silence that stretches on for so long that Felix has to check that he hasn't accidentally hung up. 

Then, finally, he's answered with a laugh.

It's a cruel, mocking laugh that Felix recognises immediately. It isn't Sylvain. 

"Aww, do you still miss your boyfriend?" Miklan sneers. "All those little voice mails you left him. _Boo hoo hoo Sylvain, come back to me_."

Felix's blood runs cold. He knows Miklan is paraphrasing, but he also knows that he called Sylvain after Glenn died, too upset for words, too upset to hang up after Sylvain didn't answer. The thought of Miklan listening to and reading every single message that was left for Sylvain makes Felix feel sick. 

"You should have seen the look on your father's face back then," Miklan tells him, "when I told our parents that I had some very important news that I thought they should know. The disappointment in his eyes when he realised that you were dating a guy, dating my shitty little brother, of all people. Do you wanna know what _my_ father had to say about you?"

"We weren't," Felix hears himself say, over the blood rushing in his head. "We weren't dating."

"Don't lie," Milkan laughs. "It was obvious. _You_ were so obvious. My parents couldn't stand it. Couldn't have _you_ ruining their precious son's life, could they? It's your fault we moved, Felix. Your fault that Sylvain got uprooted without warning. Everything's always your fault."

"Stop." Felix's voice is shaking as an old, familiar guilt breaks free of where he's locked it away. "This is all _your fault_."

"You wish it was," Milkan tells him. "You hurt Sylvain more than I ever could. You always do. Even when he doesn't realise. Happy fucking birthday, Felix."

Miklan hangs up on him, leaving Felix shaking and alone, his vision blurring with tears he refuses to shed. 

So this is why Felix's father hadn't been surprised at his attempt to come out. He's known for years. For longer than Felix has. And so have Sylvain's parents, who were never kind about anything. Felix couldn't even imagine how they chose to punish Sylvain for this, for something that wasn't his fault at all. 

And there's Miklan, holding onto Sylvain's phone for years, waiting for the right time to bring Felix crashing down into the depths of his own guilt. Felix blocks and deletes Sylvain's number off his phone. It isn't Sylvain's any more. It hasn't been for a long time and that's Felix's fault too.

There's no way for Felix to make up for all the pain that Sylvain has suffered through. There's nothing he can do about the guilt that washes over him, except to drown in it.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Felix is twenty two, stumbling out of Sylvain's apartment in the early hours of the morning, nearly tripping over himself in his haste. 

He's hurt Sylvain again. 

His hands are trembling as he deletes Sylvain's number out of his phone for a second time. He doesn't belong in Sylvain's life. Not when the only thing he ever ends up doing is hurting Sylvain. 

Maybe Sylvain is upset now, but it's nothing compared to how much Felix will hurt him by staying around. He hears it at the back of his mind, his memory preserving the cruel tone of Miklan's words: _You hurt Sylvain more than I ever could. You always do._

Sylvain's absence in his life has hurt Felix once, and it will hurt this time too. 

It's worth it, Felix decides, if it means that he'll never hurt Sylvain again.


End file.
